Behind Blue Eyes
by Moosabus
Summary: Castiel shows up, frightened and confused in the bunker after being missing for a whole day. It quickly becomes clear to Sam and Dean that this is not the Castiel of their universe - particularly when Castiel starts claiming that Dean is his boyfriend. Of course, Dean would never dream of /actually/ dating Castiel... Or at least, that's what he continues to tell Sam.
1. Chapter 1

After they had unleashed the darkness, Dean had taken Sam's every straw of advice. 'Get to bed early', he'd said. 'This has been stressful for all of us, Dean - Charlie, the mark and now this 'the Darkness' crap? We're - particularly you - are going to need your rest.' He'd even managed to drift off once or twice. Every time he did so, however, he'd snap back, pictures flashing through his mind. Most of them were distorted or broken, like detached fragments, tiny pieces of the mark that still remained. The color red, the feel of blood running down his hands - now intertwined with the guilt and the dread and the sadness that seemed to just build and build.

On one hand, it felt great. Dean hadn't felt true, raw emotion since he'd had the mark; that little red blemish had just sucked it all out of him. On the other hand, before now? He hadn't wanted to put a knife to his own throat.

He sighed, arching his back and pressing his head against the bed frame, thinking to himself about the events that he couldn't believe had just happened a few hours prior. When the black smoke had cleared around them it had left nothing but devastation in its wake. It reminded Dean of when Cass had raised him from Hell; how all of the trees within a fifty mile radius had been flattened. Even now Dean was still surprised by how much damage had been done. Thinking of Cass, his heart wrenched.

Cass.

Now... that was another tale.

Almost as soon as they could muster up enough power to push Baby out of the mud they had turned tail down the road and driven back to where Sam had left Crowley, Rowena and Cass. Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes through forcefully shut eyelids. With their luck, it was no surprise how _that_ had turned out - by the time they had gotten back Crowley was busy face-planting the ground, Rowena had fled and Cass... well, Cass had just been... gone.

'Are you deaf, or do you just find sinking a knife into me kinky?' Dean remembered Crowley growling. He'd tied him up in the bunker for what had to be the sixtieth time that year and sure - maybe torture wasn't _really_ necessary to squeeze the information out of him but Dean hadn't needed the mark of Cain to want to make Crowley pay for almost killing Sam. Yeah, Sam had told him all about that little confrontation. No, Dean didn't give a rats ass who's fault it was. 'I told you already, Squirrel - Rowena turned Cass all 'incredible hulk' on me, took off with the codex and just when I think I'm about to die I see this great big flash of blue light. Next thing I know I'm lying down on the ground and your prince charming is nowhere to be seen.'

Dean had responded by plunging his knife into Crowley's shoulder, more to tear off his contemptuous smirk then anything else.

Dean dragged his hands down his face now, furrowing his brow and pulling his eyelids. No longer bothering to keep his eyes shut he sat up, the white bed-sheets sliding to his waist. "Where are you, Cass...?"

 _Crash._

Dean jolted awake, every muscle tightening. He threw the covers off of himself, reaching for his gun. "...Cass?" He called cautiously. He sneaked towards the door, gun poised at his ear. _That had better have just have been Sam tripping over an extension cord, or so help me,_ he thought. It was dark out in the hallway. The shadows appeared to warp on the grey walls, exaggerating objects in a manner that made Dean feel anxious and small. His careful eyes scanned the bunker once and found nothing. A second time and Dean felt a lump catch in his throat, a wave of dread washing over him.

In the center of the room was a dark, shadowy figure.

Dean didn't think it had been there before.

No, it definitely hadn't been there before.

For a moment the two just paused, staring at each other in the darkness, waiting to see who moved first. In a split second the figure lurched, stumbling back. Its back collided with something - it was too dark to make out exactly what - and Dean heard a low grunt of pain.

This was his chance.

In the split second the intruder needed to recover, Dean had loaded his gun and had pinned him against the ground, every instinct he had telling him that this person was bad news. He could hear this guy's heartbeat and short, shallow breaths, however - he sounded genuinely scared. "What are you doing here?" He growled. When he received no clear answer, his voice raised two decibels. One part of him felt bad for scaring whoever this guy was - on the other hand, however, they had broken into the bunker and that could only mean trouble. "Answer me, dammit!"

There was silence. "... Dean?"

The moment he heard _that_ voice it were as if someone had reached into his chest and torn out his heart. His composure melted instantly and he backed off, pulling himself up. "... Cass." He returned his friend's name, his eyes gentle yet stern. A look of confusion slid over Dean's face. "What happened to you, Cass? We were worried sick about you!"

"Where have I..." Castiel shook his head. Now that he was up close to Cass, eyes focused only on Cass's own, Dean could make out an outline of his expression in the darkness. It was a look of confusion that could have rivaled Dean's own - and it filled Dean with a sense of dread. "Dean..."

Before Castiel could say anything more, the lights of the bunker flickered on with a low hum. "Dean? Dean, is everything alright?" Dean heard the heavy, trademark footsteps of Sam reverberating down the hall. "I heard you yelling and-

Sam stopped in his tracks when he saw Cass. "Is that-

"Cass, yeah. Looks like luck is on our side for once." Dean smiled, biting his lip. When Dean turned to Castiel however, that smile faltered.

"W-where am I?" Castiel looked nauseous - hurt, even. "D-dean... Why is Sam here? I thought you said he -

Dean placed a firm hand on Castiel's shoulder. His touch seemed to calm the angel down a little. "Cass... you're in the bunker. Don't you recognize...?"

"...Cass... What did you think Dean said about me?" Sam asked gently. Castiel was still shaking and terrified and beneath the calm demeanor, both Winchesters felt a familiar deep sense of morbidity. It could never just be something simple, could it?

Castiel looked up at Sam, sniffing slightly. "Y-you're supposed to be in Stanford, studying law, aren't you?"

Dean and Sam both frowned. "Cass..." Sam began. "That was _years_ ago... and you weren't even there at the time."

"Yeah, Cass. ... Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Dean said slowly.

"I... I don't know." The tears watering in Castiel's eyes broke Dean's heart. He had never seen the angel this upset before. "Dean... I... I think there's something wrong with my memory."

* * *

"Okay, Cass. Just calm down and tell us what you remember."

Dean had sat Castiel down on the couch whilst Sam went off to the kitchen to make him a cup of coffee. The angel appeared to have calmed down significantly by now, although he was still shaking a little. He bunched the blanket Dean had fetched him in his hands and wrapped it around himself further, blinking out the last of his tears. "I... I remember that you said Sam was in Stanford with his girlfriend. W-we weren't in a 'bunker' either. We... we were in a normal house."

Dean frowned. "Us? A normal house? ... Cass, Sammy and I haven't lived in a 'normal' house since we were kids - we've got to keep moving around."

Castiel furrowed his brow. "How come, Dean?"

Dean felt like he'd just been slapped in the face. "Cass... do you really not remember what me and Sam do for a living?"

"...You're a mechanic, aren't you?"

Dean stared down at Castiel, speechless. "... Cass..." He began weakly. Dean could feel his knees buckling. "Tell me... have you ever heard of monsters...?"

"Monsters?" Castiel seemed surprised. "Of course I have. Ghosts, werewolves... you mean those sorts of monsters?" He shook his head. "I don't understand why you're asking me, though."

"This might surprise you, Cass..." Dean sighed. 'But monsters? ...They're real. Me and Sam...? ... We hunt them."

The look that spread across Castiel's face was one that Dean had seen a thousand times. It was a look of strong disbelief and of mild amusement, mingled with a growing shock. "S-seriously? You've got to be joking, right?" He laughed, hoping for some reassurance. "I mean... I remember it all so clearly. Y-you're a mechanic, not a _vampire slayer_ or whatever the heck it is you do. I met you at a party _,_ Dean! I have years and _years_ of memories - and now what you're trying to tell me is that they're all _fake?_ "

"Memories can be implanted." Dean flatlined. "... Whatever you remember, Cass... its obviously not what really happened."

"No! I refuse to accept that." Castiel yelled. He was suddenly on his feet. His eyes burnt into Dean like red hot needles, stinging Dean and crumbling away the wall of numbness Dean had built. "Do you mean to tell me that everything that happened between me and you never happened?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Cass." It was a half truth. Dean had some idea - he just didn't want to believe it. Castiel had said that they were living together, sure - but Castiel was his _best friend_.

Castiel took a deep breath, visibly hurt. It made Dean feel inexplicably guilty - he felt like he had just grabbed a knife and ripped the angel's heart out. "We're dating, Dean. ...We've been going out for 5 years now."

Dean could see the fresh tears in Castiel's eyes now. He felt like he should have been able to come up with some grandeur speech to comfort the angel, to be the strong and confident one like he always was. He felt like he should have known exactly what to do and how to react - after all, Dean always had a plan. It wasn't always a good plan but it had always worked out in the end; when Sam had said 'yes' to Lucifer, driving in there radio blaring had been his plan. When Sam had been soulless, Death had been his plan. When Sam had been dying, Gadreel had been his plan. Castiel, however, had done it. In one fell swoop, Castiel's words had finally broken him.

So instead of doing any of those things, Dean simply got up off of the couch and walked away, struggling to hold back tears.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm telling you, Sam - it was as if for him? The last several years just haven't _happened._ " Dean frowned. He had stormed off to his room after Castiel had told him what he had and Sam had found Dean half an hour later, sitting on his bed. "Raising me from perdition? That's a nadda. He thinks that we met at a party - that we..." Dean paused, swallowing a lump in his throat.

Sam gave him an inquisitive look. "That you what, Dean?"

"... That we live together." Dean said weakly.

"Live together...?" Sam seemed confused for a moment, which just made it worse. As he realized what Dean had been implying however, he had to struggle to keep a wide, goofy grin from spreading across his face. "... Dude. Talk about deastiel."

Dean grimaced, turning red. "Its called 'destiel', Sam!" He snapped. His face only turned redder when he realised how that had sounded - and then Sam began to laugh, unable to contain it anymore.

"I'm sorry," Sam wheezed. "But that is just too perfect."

Dean didn't feel like laughing. He felt angry, and humiliated.

"I can't believe t-

"... Are you going to help me with this or not, Sam?" The words came out dangerously soft, Dean's fists clenching and Sam's laughter came to an abrupt stop.

"I... I'm sorry, Dean, I didn't mean to..." Sam bit his lip. "... I-I'll think of some ideas." Dean said nothing, staring down at his hands. Sam sighed. "I'm telling you, Dean - this whole situation is screwy. I mean, I don't think its just his memories."

Dean looked up at this. "What do you mean, Sam?"

"Well... That's the thing. Twenty minutes after I gave Cass his coffee I came back to check on him and.. Well..." Sam fidgeted, unease etched into his face. "... He was asleep, Dean."

Dean's eyes widened. "That's-

"Exactly." Sam said gravely. "Angels don't sleep."

Dean cringed.

"No matter how this happened, Dean, I think one thing is clear - the Castiel out there? He definitely is not the Castiel we know." Sam lowered his head slightly. The two of them sat in silence for a little while until finally, Sam looked up. "Uh..." He could feel Dean glowering at him. "... Do you? Have feelings for Cass, that is?"

" _No,_ dude!" Dean exclaimed. He scoffed. "Why would you even think that?"

Sam looked sheepish. "Well, its just... the staring and the 'profound bond' crap... Sometimes it can get a little..." He coughed into his fist, pretending to clear his throat. "Well... You know-

"No, I don't know! Cass is my best friend, Sam!" Dean groaned. "God, you're almost as bad as those highschool drama girls we met, you know that?"

Sam put his hands up defensively. " I was just saying-

"Yeah, well you need to stop 'saying'. Now."

"Okay. Okay, fine." Sam shook his head. "All comments aside Dean, you should probably go and apologize. I know Cass must have surprised you but remember - at the moment? Nobody is more confused or frightened then he is. You storming off like that, especially after what he just told you? It probably didn't make him feel very good."

Dean thought over Sam's words for a moment. "...Fine." He grumbled. "I'll go." In spite of his tough demeanor, Dean felt weak. He still hadn't told Sam how Castiel's words had almost brought him to tears earlier. Feeling like a paper weight, Dean dragged himself off of the bed.

He really didn't want to face Castiel.

Castiel was still asleep when he reached the sofa. He looked so peaceful curled up like that, his arms and knees tucked into his body and a linen quilt draped over him; it was a position Dean rarely saw him in even when he was human. Castiel turned, groaning sleepily and Dean bit his lip. He could feel himself blushing - what was he doing, watching Cass sleep like this? Like, how creepy was that? All the same, he couldn't help it - Cass just looked like a little angel when he slept.

"...Dean?" Castiel croaked.

Dean swore under his breath. "Oh, uh... hi, Cass." He mumbled. "I... I didn't know you were awake."

Castiel yawned. "No, I was asleep. You just woke me up, actually." Castiel smiled at him. Dean could tell he was forcing it. "So, what did you want, Dean?"

Dean swallowed. "L-listen, Cass... I, uh... I wanted to apologize for how I behaved earlier. I-it was inappropriate. I mean, I get that you're going through more then any of us right now, so..."

Castiel looked away. "Don't worry about it, Dean. ... I'm sorry for shocking you like that." There was silence. "... So, you and Sam hunt monsters in this world?"

"I guess that's..." Dean frowned. "We haven't really established if you're from another world or if somebody did this to you or what, Cass..."

"No - I refuse to believe that my memories are fake. So I must be in the wrong universe." Castiel paused. "The other Dean, the one in my universe? ... He called me 'Cass' also." His sad smile made Dean's heart ache. "So, anything else I should know about you and Sam? This world? ...Myself?"

For Castiel's sake, Dean decided to go along with it. "The world may or may not be in grave danger, Sam and I are responsible and you? You are... were... an angel." Realizing how that could have come across, Dean quickly added, "literally. ... Trust me when I say that that's not nearly as fun and carefree as it sounds."

"The world, in danger? An angel? How?" Confusion spread across Castiel's face. "If this... other me... is an angel... how did he meet you?

"There's this thing called the darkness. Sam and I may or may not have accidentally released it a few hours back... We don't know what its going to do yet but it can't be good." Dean scoffed. "As for how you met me? Long story, actually. You basically rescued me from hell and I stabbed you in the chest."

Castiel's eyes widened. "... Wow."

"Yep." Dean said. "As I said, its a long story."

"Sounds like it." Castiel sighed. "Listen, Dean... I think I should tell you something." He pursed his lips, looking down. "When you walked off earlier? ...I saw the tears in your eyes." Dean felt a sudden wave of nausea. "That wa-

"Don't, Cass." Dean warned.

"I just wanted to-

"What part of 'don't' don't you understand?" Dean shouted.

Castiel went silent. "Dean-

He was cut off as a door creaked and Dean heard the familiar thump of Sam's footsteps. "You might want to come check this out, Dean." he said, briefly acknowledging Castiel with a "hey, Cass."

"What is it, Sam?" Dean asked, putting his anger aside for the moment.

"I think I might have found a case - could be a lead. There's apparently a small town a few hours out from here where all kinds of weird things have been happening - I mean, people have been going crazy, murdering others, sleeping with their neighbour's wives- heck, apparently one guy got promoted to CEO in like, what - a _day?"_

"So, what are we thinking here?" Dean said. "Demon deals? Wishes gone wrong?"

"That's the funny thing, actually." Sam bit his lip. "Apparently, a few hours earlier the entire town was shrouded in a 'thick black smoke'... Sound familiar?" Dean's eyes widened.

"The darkness." Dean mumbled.

"Are you guys going now, then?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah, I guess we are, Cass."

"Good. I'd like to come with you."

Simultaneously, the two turned to face Castiel. "are you crazy?" Dean exclaimed. "You have no idea what this crap is and, no offence, Cass, but you're not exactly in the best position to be _hunting_ right now."

"Yeah, Cass. Why do you want to come, anyway?" Sam asked.

"The last time I checked, you two have no idea what this _crap_ is either." Castiel retorted venomously. Dean flinched - no matter what shape he was in, Castiel could be damn intimidating when he wanted to be. "From what I understand, I appeared only a few hours after you two released the 'Darkness' - and now weird stuff is happening in this town only hours after being shrouded in the stuff?" He shook his head. "If there is even the slightest chance that my appearance here could possibly be related, I _will_ go with you."

"You could _die,_ Cass." Dean argued.

"Deans right." Sam said. "I'm sorry, Cass, but there's no point in trying to find out how the two correlate if you're not alive for us to fix it. ...You'll just have to sit this one out."

"What do you expect me to do?" Castiel called after them. The two grabbed their stuff and headed towards the garage. "Just... sit here and wait?"

Dean grabbed the door knob and took a deep breath. He looked at Castiel as sternly as he could. "Yes." He growled.

Castiel shook his head. "I could never do that, Dean - not knowing you were in danger. ... Please, just let me come. I'll do whatever you two want me to do - heck, I'll even stay in the Impala if you make me. Leave me here, however? And I _guarantee_ that I will find a way to get to you. That 'way' could be a hell of a lot more dangerous then anything this investigation might put me through."

Dean thought over Castiel's words. It seemed highly unlikely to Dean that Castiel would find a way out of the bunker but hell, Dean knew he would try. He'd try until his knees were scraped and his arms were broken, if that was what it took. Dean really didn't want to have to worry about Castiel twenty-four seven and so finally, he let out a frustrated groan. "Damn, you can be stubborn sometimes, you know that?"

"Come on, Dean!" Sam called from the garage.

"I'm coming Sam, alright? Just a minute!" Dean yelled back. He turned back to Castiel. "If you're coming too, hurry up. But remember- you have to do everything we tell you, got that? _Everything._ I'm hauling your ass back to the bunker at the first sign of an independent thought ... and you can stay chained up in the dungeon for all I care."

Castiel nodded. "Understood." His face creased ever so slightly as he seemed to register what Dean had just said. "... Dungeon?"

He was cut off as a cheap suit hit his face. He looked up, confused, only to hear Dean call, "oh- and you're going to need one of these!"


	3. Chapter 3

It was around 1 AM when the Impala finally reached its destination - or as far as it could, in any case. The town was a small, rural one, with a population of around three hundred and thirty. Chances were it had one small police station, with a force of no less then ten or so officers, give or take. None the less, when Sam, Dean and Castiel pulled up at the town, it was, as Dean put it, "like a crime scene out of back to the future 2." Barricades had been set up, yellow police tape draped around poles and in the night's darkness it was easy to make out the red and blue flashes of police vehicle alarms. By the look of it, there were _dozens_ of them.

Dean could feel a heavy, familiar feeling of dread settling in his stomach.

"This is crazy." Castiel mumbled from the back seat. "What could have happened here?"

"I don't know, Cass." Sam replied. "This town shouldn't have such a big police force. Even with the news stories... I didn't think it would be _this_ bad. Whatever happened, it must be big."

"Better be, if they've called out this many police cars." Dean contributed. "Even in some of our bigger cases, do we usually see what? Three? Four at maximum?" He shook his head, his grip tightening around the steering wheel. "... I guess we should check it out."

"W-wait, ch-check it out?" Dean was stopped by Castiel's voice as he began to get out. "That's a police crime scene! We can't go in there!"

Dean rolled his eyes, groaning. "Yes, Cass. That's kind of the point of the suits? If we don't go in there and ask them questions, how are we supposed to know what happened?"

"B-but... They'd ask for identification, wouldn't they?" Castiel protested. His eyes widened slightly. "Or..."

"That's why we have fake IDs, Cass." Dean, feeling quite exasperated by now, slid out of the car and opened the trunk of the car, browsing through the arsenal inside of it. Sam was the second one out, followed hesitantly by Castiel.

"Y-you..." Castiel looked down-right frantic by now. "I..."

"We told you not to come with us." Dean snapped, grabbing his equipment and, when he was sure that Sam had retrieved his, slamming the trunk shut. "Now, if you're going to chicken out, you can stay in the Impala. Otherwise, if you want to find any leads on why your memory is ... the way it is, I suggest you do what I suggested you do - tag along and don't ask stupid questions."

Sam looked away sheepishly. He had every intention to stay out of this one. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean tossing Castiel a badge and Castiel clumsily catching it. From the way Castiel was sweating bullets, Sam feared that he'd blow their cover. None the less, they had decided that he was coming and so the three of them headed towards the crime scene. "Relax, we've done this maybe ten thousand times." Sam whispered to Castiel as they walked.

Castiel's face crinkled. "Ever get caught?" He breathed, wiping a line of sweat off of his forehead.

Sam bit his lip. "Well - once or twice."

Castiel sighed, obviously not reassured. "Great." He murmured. "Just bloody perfect."

"Look - just hold up the badge we gave you when they ask for identification. You don't even need to say anything - heck, half the time they don't even examine it further." Sam rushed his explanation as they walked the last meter or so to the crime scene. Quickly, he straightened his posture and got ready to show his own ID.

As expected, an officer stopped them at the tape. "Excuse me - this is a crime scene. You can't enter here."

"We're FBI." Dean said firmly, holding up his badge. Sam did the same and, after a few meaningful looks from them both, Castiel finally held up his as well.

The officer waved them in without hesitance. Thank god you're here - we could use all the help we could get. - you can come in and look around." The officer stifled a yawn. "There are a few more of your men over by the house and I think there are one or two investigating the bank... just ask if you need anything, I guess." He turned to leave and then froze, turning back. "Oh - and I almost forgot. Don't bother asking to see the bodies - they've already been taken down to the morgue for their autopsies."

" _Bodies?_ I am totally going to jail for this." Castiel muttered, as the officer walked away.

Sam frowned. "There were homicides and other unexplained deaths reported on the news, so that's no surprise. I'm more interested in whatever happened to that house or the bank. Heck, its not often you get other FBI members hanging around these crime scenes - particularly in rural areas like this. What could possibly be going on here? This has got to be something massive."

"Well, hey - 'massive' is what happens when you release pre-biblical monsters into the world, I guess." Dean scoffed. "We going to check this out, or what?"

Sam sighed. "Yeah. How about you and Cass go and check out the house and I'll investigate the bank? We can do some poking around, ask a few questions and then meet back here in about two hours or so."

"Yeah, okay." Dean said. "Come on, Cass." He gestured for Castiel to follow him, sighing. He hoped that they could get this whole mess sorted out soon. Or at least that they could find the cause of it - that much would at least put his mind at rest.

* * *

The house in question was about a block away.

The police officer sighed. "Listen," he said. "I already had to repeat this twice to the other two agents. Are you sure you wouldn't just prefer to talk it over with them, or...?"

Hardly. Dean gave a polite, fake smile, shaking his head. "Nah, no thanks. I think I'd prefer to hear your side of the story... You know, just in case the information got a little mixed around." Just in case we end up blowing our cover, Dean thought. He pursed his lips, straightening his tie with one hand and letting the other hang freely. The officer opened his mouth to reply but before he could say anything, Dean added, "please. It would mean a lot to us - just tell us what happened to the house and any other information you would happen to know."

"Well, I'll tell you what I told the others." The officer said, scratching his head. "Its quite the puzzle - even we haven't fully figured out how it happened." He looked up at the house that was in front of them. It was scorched black, bits of wood burnt to charcoal and crumbling away at the grain. Even as Dean watched, a loose plank fell from somewhere above him, landing in a pile of ash near the door . Three or four fire trucks were parked out front as well as several more police cars and sure enough, questioning witnesses a little way over were two more FBI agents. Dean swallowed.

"Well, it was a fire - right?" Dean said. He gestured to Castiel. "Why don't you just tell me and my partner what you _think_ caused it, officer?"

The policeman's face crinkled slightly. "Truth be told, I have no idea. What we do know is that two people were inside at the time - Ms. Jean and the man she was seeing, Mr. Flann. Her kids were in the custody of her ex-husband at the time."

"Ex-husband?" Dean inquired. "Who was he?"

"Uh..." The policeman continued to frown. "I think his name was Mr. Lentin? Him and Ms. Jean apparently got a divorce about a month ago."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "I see... And did it ever occur to you that this 'Mr. Lentin' is the one responsible for this?"

"Well, we considered it - but I just don't see how this could be done by one person." The officer shook his head. "I mean, you've got to realize that this isn't something that could have just been done with a simple splash of gasoline - and even that would have been hard to come by in a town this small. No - the town literally _burst -_ and I mean _exploded_ into flames. Its as if the entire thing was fried, instantly, from the inside out. Then you have the little matter of the sworn fact that Mr. Lentin was seen by no less then a dozen people at the time of the arson. He was apparently out at a pub, drinking with some friends - and there's security footage to back that up."

"I see." Dean said. "Is there any way we could speak to their kids?"

"Yeah, they'd be at their step-father's house." The officer shook his head, scribbling on a slip of paper. Moments later, he handed the note to Dean. "Here's the address - You can go and question the three of them if you want, but I wouldn't bother - we already sent agents over there and they seem clean." He let out a long, heavy sigh. "Those poor boys - they must be devastated. I mean... they just lost their entire home and their mother over a freak accident."

Castiel didn't miss the way Dean's eyes darkened or the way his knuckles subtly clenched when he heard those words, nor the emotionless, tight smile that stretched over his face. "... Yeah, I just hate to think about how they'll grow up. Anyway, thank you for your help, officer. I'll be sure to check back if I need anything else." Dean said.

The officer left, the sound of sirens and conversation the only noises that remained in the air. Castiel couldn't help but notice how sad Dean looked, staring up at that house. It were as if that house were the only thing that existed to him - neither his Cass, nor the investigation, nor anything in between mattered to Dean at that moment. His eyes half glistened - as though he wanted to cry but could not, as if he had cried out all of his tears long ago - too long ago to remember what it felt like _to_ cry, or even to experience joy. What could have happened to Dean - this broken shell of a man - to make him how he was? _H_ _is_ Dean was always so bright and lively. He couldn't help but wonder... the Dean of this world - had _he_ ever been so happy and energetic? It broke Castiel's heart to think about it - that Dean - any Dean - could ever become such an empty husk. "... Dean?" Castiel timidly reached out a hand, placing it on Dean's shoulder. Almost immediately, he realized his mistake and retracted it, amending the situation with a soft, "sorry... I'm still getting used to this whole 'nothing but friends' thing..."

"No, its okay. I don't care." Dean mumbled. "Its just that this whole scenario... It..." He bit his lip, wrenching his gaze away from the house. "You know what, its nothing. Just forget that I said anything, okay?"

Castiel began to rack his brain, searching for anything that he could use to make Dean open up. Even with different memories, Castiel thought that he knew his Dean enough to communicate with this one. No doubt, this was _not_ the Dean he knew. This one was so cold and harsh - yet if there was even a smidgen of the joyous Dean that Castiel knew within him? He _would_ find it - after all, not everything _had_ to be different, did it?

Something clicked.

It was an unlikely chance - after all, his Dean never talked about it much, nor did he seem very affected by it. Maybe however, just maybe it would work on _this_ Dean. "Is it..." He spoke softly at first, his voice rising as he gained more confidence. "... Is it about your mother?"

The look of contorted horror on Dean's face was enough to tell Castiel he'd struck a nerve. "Dammit, Cass." Dean hissed. His gaze was like steel - hard and sharp, with a deceptively bright shine. "How... how could you possibly know about _that?_ With your memories the way they are, did the one thing that you still remember correctly have to be _that?"_ He dragged his hands down his face, exhaustion evident in the bags beneath his eyes. He gave a long sigh. "Just... drop it, Cass. _Please_."

 _Please._

That hadn't been an order. That had been a request. Dean Winchester was _begging_ him not to pursue this any further, to not punch any further holes in the walls he had built, and the ache in Castiel's heart almost made him wish he didn't have to. Instead of obeying Dean's wishes however, Castiel took a deep breath. "The Dean I know, the one from my world - he told me that his mother died because of faulty electrical wiring. He was about six or so when it made the house catch fire and it apparently burnt their entire house down. Sam and him got out okay, as did their dad but..." Castiel swallowed. "Well... you know."

"... It wasn't 'faulty electrical wiring', you know." Dean said, his voice both forced and venomous. "At least, not for me and mybrother."

"What was it then?" Castiel asked. He didn't know if he really wanted to find out.

Dean scoffed, laughing bitterly. "It was a demon." He spat. "And I was there when it pinned her to the ceiling, and I got to watch the _flesh peel off her bones_."

Castiel froze, a sickening feeling rising up inside of him. "I-I'm s..."

"You're _sorry?_ No. No, you're not." Dean murmured. He stared directly into Castiel's eyes, his gaze burning into him - and for the first time since hell, Dean looked into Castiel's eyes and saw something staring back at him that he had never thought he would see.

A stranger.

"You're right. You aren'tthe Castiel from this universe." Dean shook his head, fury bubbling up inside of him. "Even with his memories as jumbled up as yours are, there is no way _Cass_ would ever do that to me. He would never even mention that night to me- hell, even Sammy knows not to bring that shit up _._ I know this is most likely some selfish attempt to get me to 'open up' more, to become more like the Dean _you_ know - well just stop. Its never, _ever_ going to happen, do you hear me?" Castiel felt like he had just been crumpled up and stomped on until he was nothing but trash - but Dean wasn't finished with him yet. "I don't wantto move on, Castiel. I will nevermove on. I'm sohappyfor your Dean, that he can just forget about what happened that night and go on with his life but I can't. You know why?Because its my fault _._ Every person that Sammy and I don't save, every family left broken and torn because we weren't there to help them? All of the people that turned out like us because _of_ us? Did you reallythink that I was going to move on from all of _that..._ just because of some stupid pep-talk you gave me? You obviously know _nothing_ about me - so stop acting like you give a shit."

Dean turned tail, and stormed off towards the Impala.

He could have cared less if Castiel followed him or not.


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel knew he'd fucked up.

Dean was right - this wasn't his world. He had no idea what the Dean of this world had been through. He hadn't any right to pry, but a small part of him was selfish. In what world was it fair that Dean treated him like that? In what world was it fair that he got pulled away from everything and everything he had ever known and loved, forced into a world where Dean was a polar opposite, where demons existed and where it seemed that at any given second you could be only seconds away from death? He was trying to his hardest to stay strong under the circumstances, yet he felt worn out.

The Impala's engine revved. Alertness slammed into Castiel like a train. A sickly feeling crawled up his skin as he realised that he wasn't joking - Dean was about to leave. Terrified that he wasn't going to make it, Castiel ran for the car. "Dean - wait!" He screamed loud enough to make his throat hurt. "Y-you can't leave me here!"

As the Impala quietened, a wave of relief washed over Castiel. Exhausted and frantic, Castiel slumped against the side of the Impala. He clutched the silver rimming, panting and wiping at the sweat rolling off of his forehead as Dean rolled the window down. "Why not?" Dean snapped. "You know, my Cass - the one from this world, him I get. I don't getyou - hell, I hardly know you at all. You - you have about as much value to me as any other civilian, combined with the fact that you happen to be wearing the skin of a friend I might never see again which makes it about ten times worse."

Castiel winced, trying his hardest to ignore the way Dean's words cut him. "You don't get me?" Castiel murmured. Dean shook his head, biting his lip. "But - how?" He continued. "I might not be the same Castiel that you know and... you seem pretty far off from my Dean from what I've seen, but I'm nobody. I-I work as a barista down at some coffee place. You have to pay the majority of the rent for our apartment most of the time just because I can't keep up my half. I'm nothing special, so there's nothing for you not to get."

"I don't get normal people," Dean said flatly, "and I don't get what you could have possibly seen in me to want to date me, much less how you put up with me for five years."

Castiel went silent. "Well..." He faulted. "Everything."

"Everything?" Dean's voice was ripe with disbelief.

Castiel nodded. "Everything. I was so shy before I met you - I couldn't really talk to people. Every time I tried I just... I never knew what to say. I'd stumble over my own words or come across as rude and none of the friendships I tried to make ever clicked-"

"Get in the Impala, Cass." Dean said. For a moment, Castiel was confused at the firmness of Dean's voice. When looking over to where Dean was gesturing though, he saw that they had drawn the attention of half the police force. Giving a nod of acknowledgement, Castiel opened the passenger car door and slipped in beside him.

Castiel cleared his throat. "-then one day, I'm at this party," he continued, "and you just come waltzing up to me without the slightest hesitation." He smiled, blushing. "Crowds upon crowds of those free-loaders to choose from, and you choose the fly on the wall." Castiel could have sworn that he saw the smallest of smirks spread across Dean's face. "Well of course we hit it off - you wouldn't leave me alone, no matter what kinds of stupid crap I said."

Dean chortled. "That does kinda sound like me." Now was the first time since he had arrived here that Castiel had heard this Dean's laugh. It was so pleasant to hear that it hadn't changed - it was still loud and full of heart, if not a little rough around the edges. Hearing it gave Castiel chills. Dean continued. "Look - I'm sorry for being so harsh on you back there. It wasn't right of me, particularly with all you've been through. I don't know if its what you said or the fact that I'm still getting used to this whole 'you're dating me in another universe' thing, but it was childish of me to go off at you how I did."

Castiel bit his lip, staring at the ground. "N-no, its fine. It must be hard losing someone you love, but its something I've never experienced. So- it wasn't right for me to push you like I did, and you snapped. I get it."

Dean scoffed. "So I guess we're both just idiots, huh?"

Castiel smiled. "We might not be idiots, but we definitely need to check what we say before we say it."

"Amen to that." Dean laughed. He twisted the key in the ignition and started to drive.

* * *

They pulled up at an average neighbourhood. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary - hell, everything was so normal that Dean could feel himself beginning to twitch. "I swear, if we don't find or do something exciting soon, I'm going to die of boredom." He told Castiel with a groan.

Castiel chuckled. "I'm sure it'll get better once we get to the house. I mean, who likes being woken up at half past one in the morning?"

Dean frowned. "What's wrong with waking up at half past one in the morning? Me and Sammy do it all the time."

"Yeah, well, you two aren't exactly what I'd call 'normal'. This entire world is back to front."

"I'm sure even this job is better then being a barista. I mean, really." Dean rolled his eyes. Castiel chuckled.

Whilst he was glad that the conversation was flowing between them, Castiel could sense the mutual tension that hung in the air. He was sure that Dean could too. It was an atmosphere of mistrust, loneliness and uncertainty that neither of them felt inclined to bring it up. "I think this is the place." Dean said, matching the address on the paper in his hands to the house they stood before. It was of the smaller kind - a one story brick house with a honest garden and hedges around the perimeter. "Number 12."

Castiel pursed his lips. "Shall we knock."

"Definitely." Dean sighed. Neither of them were looking forward to disturbing this 'Mr. Lentin' guy, especially after he had just lost and possibly murdered his wife, but it had to be done. After some hesitation, Dean raised his hand above the home's door and struck his fist against the wood. "Mr. Lentin!" He yelled, probably waking up half the street and hopefully Mr. Lentin himself. "Its FBI!"

"What if this guy is a sound sleeper?" Castiel asked.

Dean shrugged. "Then we break in."

"Isn't... isn't that illegal?"

"Most likely - then again, so is my fake badge, so who's complaining?"

"But-

Dean had given up waiting and had started to pick the door's lock. "If you're so worried, you can ask Sam. I'm sure there's some legal mumbo-jumbo permitting FBI to break in, right?"

Castiel slumped, letting out a resigned grunt. "... Fine."

Just as Dean was about to gain access, he heard footsteps from inside the home. He swore under his breath, stuffing the lockpick back into his pocket as the door creaked open. He held his badge up, and Castiel did the same. "Good morning, sir - we've just been sent down to ask a few que-

"You're more feds, right? Can't you lot just get off my ass already?" Mr. Lentin groaned, rubbing his eyes. He was a middle aged man who looked like he'd had a little too much to drink. "You are the - the lot b-bazillionth they've sent and - this - this is ridiculous. I mean its one thirty, for crying out loud! You couldn't at least wa-wait until dawn to interrogate me further?"

For a split second, Dean looked sheepish. "I-I assure you, we're the last lot. We just need to follow up, so if you'll just let us in -

Mr. Lentin scoffed. "Piss off." There was a loud bang, and Dean got a face full of door.

"Well, that went brilliantly." Castiel said flatly.

"We want to question your kids, Mr. Lentin!" Dean yelled. He was beginning to feel silly, yelling in the middle of a dark street like this.

The door was flung open. The glare that Mr. Lentin gave them turned even Dean's legs to jelly. "What do you want with my kids?"

"Its mostly just to make sure your answers check out, to see if there's any information they can give us - we understand the state they must be in, sir. We won't take long - ten minutes at best." Dean explained.

Mr. Lentin seemed to be consider. "... Fine." He grumbled. "I'll give you your ten minutes - just to make sure you damn bureaucrats stop bothering me!"

Dean pushed past without further hesitation. "Thank you for your time, sir." Castiel paused to say, before staring at the ground and shuffling into the house.

"Dylan, Cody." Mr. Lentin called into one of the side rooms. There was some rustling of sheets and tired whining as the door to the children's bedroom opened and he flicked the lights on. "There are some... feds here to see you." He spat the word 'feds' like it was contagious, a detail that Dean somehow felt offended by.

"They want to speak to us?" One of the boys - Dean guessed he was the older of the two - groaned. "W-what do they want to ask?"

"Well, seeing as they only seem capable of giving incredibly vague answers, I'm not entirely sure." Mr. Lentin scowled as Dean and Castiel, as if to make a point. "Just give them the information they want - I'll be outside."

Dean and Castiel made their way into the room and an awkward silence fell upon them as the door shut. The two kids were staring quizzically at them from across the room, clearly waiting for them to ask something. "So..." Castiel began. "What are your names?"

"You heard our father say them." The older boy frowned. "I'm Dylan and my brother is Cody. What do you want?"

Cody also frowned - obviously mimicking his brother. "Yeah - what do you want?"

Dean's patience was quickly wearing thin, but nonetheless he smiled at the two. "Well, Dylan - Cody, we just wanted to ask you two some questions. About your father."

"Why?" Dylan asked. "... Did he do something wrong? Is he in trouble?"

"That's what my partner and I are trying to find out." Castiel piped in. "We heard that your mommy and daddy went to live in separate houses about a month ago. After that happened, did you hear any angry mutterings from your father or... your mother, even?"

Dylan nodded. "Daddy seemed to get pretty angry. We heard him muttering rude things about mom and he'd always sit and drink some kind of strange liquid - the stuff that he always says we're not allowed to touch."

"Its all he's been talking about for days! It scares Dylan and me." Cody said.

Castiel smiled. "Its actually 'Dylan and I'." He corrected.

Dean looked Castiel like he was crazy. "Thank you for that detail, agent." He turned back to Cody and Dylan. "Do you think that your father would ever... do anything to hurt your mother?"

There was a pause.

"... I... I don't think so." Dylan murmured. "Recently there was a strange man at mom's place, though - I told daddy about him and he got really mad. I mean like, really mad. Worse than usual."

"D-did daddy do something wrong? I mean... mommy..." Cody sniffed.

Castiel felt a pang of sadness. "I'm sure your father is innocent." He had no idea if it was true or not, but he had to reassure them.

Dean and Castiel exchanged a knowing glance before nodding their heads to the boys. "Thank you for your time." Dean said. "You've really helped out with the case."

Stepping outside the house once again, Dean and Castiel heard the door slam behind them. "So, the father gets angry after a divorce. Gets furious when he hears about the guy his wife is banging and decides to torch the house." Dean summed up. "Still doesn't explain Mr. Lentin's solid alibi or the impossibility of the arson."

"I guess we'll just have to wait until your brother calls." Castiel said. As if on cue, Dean felt his cellphone begin to vibrate. "Speak of the devil, I guess." Castiel chuckled.

Dean snorted. "Oh, trust me - you have no idea." He answered his phone, leaving Castiel to frown and ponder what Dean meant. "Hello, Sam - did you get anything?" He put the phone on loud speaker.

"Yeah." Sam's voice came through muffled. "Apparently the town bank was robbed the other day. When I say 'robbed', I say that loosely - you see, all of the money in the bank, it just vanished. Guess where they found it?"

"Where?" Dean said.

"They found the money in the house of a bank employee - I think his name was Gerard. When I went down to the county to question him, he said that he had owed money to some people. He'd been considering robbing the bank for a while now, but the catch? He swore that he never actually went through with his plan."

"What makes you so sure he's telling the truth?"

"Well... he had other options. I looked into it, and what he was claiming checked out - some family members of his were willing to wire him the cash he needed, so he had no reason to rob the bank. Still, he was caught red handed with the money, so the police had to take him in."

Dean's brow furrowed. A man had wanted his wife dead and the house containing both her and the man she was seeing had burst into flames - under impossible circumstances. Like-wise, another man had been considering bank robbery and had wound up in his own house, holding the money with no way to get it. "We both know that all this has something to do with the darkness." Dean began. He thought he might be on to something. "Well - what if the darkness is a sort of... key, in a way?"

Castiel blinked at Dean. "What do you mean?" Sam said.

"I mean, what if its sort of a gateway into peoples' hearts?"

Castiel's eyes widened. He got it. "You think that it sees into the depth of people's hearts, sees what dark desires they might be hiding, and -

"Makes them real." Sam finished.

A silence fell over the group. Nobody dared to say a word but it was obvious what they all were thinking. Slowly, Castiel turned his gaze towards Dean. "Do you think I'm here because -

"Don't say it." Dean growled. "Don't you dare." His face was flushed and his palms were sweaty. As much as he struggled to deny it, he knew he was lying to himself. The reason that this Castiel was here, in his world, was because he wanted him to be.

The Cass of this world was somebody who he had connected with instantly. They had been through so much together. So many had tried to keep them apart, though in the end they chose each other - every single time. Though Dean would have died for his Cass, the life that they both lived complicated their relationship. Had he lived a normal life, owned a normal home and by some chance had he still met Cass, Dean didn't know - he never would have told Sam, but perhaps he wanted something more.


End file.
